


White Snake

by Frenchcroatiansquid



Series: One shots [4]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: AU:Tywin marries Sansa himself, Big fat trigger warning for rape/non-con, Darkfic, Don't hate me dear Sansa/Tywin shippers, Emotionally disturbing fic, F/F, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, I recently thought of my own creepy encounters with men at 12-13, Marriage, Older Man/Younger Woman, Rape, Rape Aftermath, Small measure of agency, Some canon-typical ableist language, Trauma, which inspired me to write a more realistic take on this ship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-18
Updated: 2017-06-18
Packaged: 2018-11-15 15:51:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11234220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Frenchcroatiansquid/pseuds/Frenchcroatiansquid
Summary: "It looked like a thick, white snake with purple veins, a terrifying snake with no eyes and a round mouth."





	White Snake

**Author's Note:**

> Same old "what if Tywin had married Sansa himself" scenario, but through a 13-year-old's eyes. 
> 
> I recently talked with a friend about all the traumatizing experiences we had with men when we were teens. Let's just say there was plenty to talk about. It reminded me how disturbing af being exposed to adults' sexuality felt when I was 12-13. That's where the idea for this fic came from.

She clasped her stained glass cup so tightly her knuckles had turned white. The wine was sweet and strong. The Imp had told the servants to fill her cup generously. “A gentler man would wait a few years, but my lord father is no gentle man, I fear,” he'd told her. “Now, wine won't make the world any kinder, but it does make it more bearable, I find.”

The strongwine _did_ numb her, making everything around her seem blurry and oddly distant. Sansa took another sip. _Gentle Mother, strength of women_. She had been repeating the same line in her head over and over again as if her life depended on it. As long as the _Hymn of the Mother_ filled her head, she did not have to think of what lay ahead.

Her handmaidens had argued about the Lord Hand's intentions for her when they thought she wasn't listening. “He'll kill her as soon as she's given him an heir,” the younger one had whispered. _Faye_. Sansa knew the girl reported to the Queen. “No. He needs her to secure the North,” her older sister Eleana had disagreed. “The Northmen are savages. They will only follow a true wolf.”

A cold wave of dread washed over her when Lord Tywin rose, announcing his intention to retire. Nobody dared demand a bedding though, and for a moment, Sansa thought she might be spared the worst part of her wedding night. _No-one will ask proof of him. It can be done another time so long as I'm with child within the year_.

But her relief was short-lived when two fingers tapped her shoulder. She clenched her cup so hard the glass broke between her fingers, wine trickling over the table onto her lap, leaving a dark red stain the color of blood on her ivory gown.

For a moment, all she could do was stare at it. Then the fingers tapped her again. Sansa turned around. _A red cloak. Lem? Lester? Lum?_ She'd known the man's name once.

The room started spinning as she rose. She had to lean on the table and lower her head to prevent herself from falling over. The Lannister household guard grabbed her arm. “Hurry.” He hissed in her ear. “His lordship doesn't like to be made to wait.”

They crossed the courtyard in silence, heading for the Tower of the Hand. No matter how fast Sansa walked, the guard was always a few steps ahead of her. There was light in the tower. _This is my home now_. The thought turned her stomach. _If I run, maybe I can make it to the moat_... But the guard would be faster than her, she knew.

Old Beth greeted them at the door to the Hand's solar. The stout serving woman was loyal to the Lannisters as well, but Sansa liked her better than the girls her age. _She has kind eyes_. Or perhaps it just seemed that way because she had never heard the woman whisper about whether she was meant to live or die in her marriage.

“His lordship is waiting in m'lady's bed-chamber,” Beth told the red cloak. “I'll take her inside.” She gave Sansa a smile. “What a beautiful bride you are, m'lady. I wish I had looked that beautiful on my wedding day. Come with me.”

Lord Tywin was by the window, looking outside. He turned around when he heard them coming. “Lady Sansa.”

“M'lord.” Beth courtsied.

 _I should say something_ , Sansa thought. _A kind word to make him feel at ease, a compliment_. It was her duty as a lady. But her mind was blank and her throat so dry it almost hurt. All she could do was stare at his bald head and that grim, hard face. _He's so old. And his eyes, his eyes... Mother have mercy..._

His eyes were so cold, they seemed to freeze her in place. “Help her undress,” he told Old Beth.

Sansa lowered her eyes as the old woman unlaced her gown in the back, gently pulling it down before removing her undergown and helping her out of her smallclothes. “Call for me if you need anything, m'lord,” she said, bowing. Then, she was gone.

 _Gentle Mother, font of mercy..._ Sansa was fighting the urge to cover herself, her eyes fixing the marble floor, still unable to look up. _He's my husband now. He has a right to see me_.

When she finally raised her head, he had pulled out his manhood. It looked like a thick, white snake with purple veins, a terrifying snake with no eyes and a round mouth. He was stroking it, making it grow. Sansa quickly turned her eyes again. _Oh gods, he'll be mad at me for looking away_.

But Lord Tywin did not seem to care. He motioned with his head towards the bed. “Lie down.” His mouth was tight, his eyes fixing her as she tried to get her legs to obey her.

Her body was petrified. _I can't do this._ Warm fluid was running over her thighs and down her legs. _Oh gods be good, gods be good_. She tried to clench her muscles to make it stop, but the water just kept rushing out until her bladder was empty.

Her lord husband seemed unfazed, handing her a piece of cloth. “Clean yourself up,” he said. “And see this doesn't happen again.”

He never took his eyes off her as she wiped her legs dry and knelt down to let the cloth soak up the puddle on the floor. _Gentle Mother, strength of women, help our daughters through this fray..._ The blind snake was bobbing its head in the air.

Somehow, she managed to stumble to the bed on shaky legs, lying down on her back. “Soothe the wrath and tame the fury, teach us all a kinder way.” She didn't realize she was mouthing the words until she saw the disapproving look on Lord Tywin's face, but he did not say anything.

His breathing had turned shallow as he lowered himself on top of her, fumbling between her legs. His face was uncomfortably close to her own. His eyes looked glassy, distant, as if the person who had been in there just moments ago had left his body, and his breath smelled... _old. Just old_.

Sansa had to force herself not to turn her head. She would have given anything for another glass of strongwine. _This is my duty_. She told herself. _I'm doing my duty._

She felt a dull ache and a burn that spread through her belly and up her spine as he forced himself into her. Tears shot to her eyes. _Gentle Mother, strength of women... teach us all a kinder way_.

Every thrust felt like a stab in her gut, the pain radiating through her body. She'd never given the act itself much thought, but somehow, she had not expected it to last so long, stab after stab after stab. Or perhaps it just _felt_ long, she couldn't say for sure.

It was as if she could watch herself from above as she was staring at the ceiling, her husband grunting on top of her like an animal, his back heaving up and down. _Gentle Mother, font of mercy..._

And then, when she had almost given up hope, the gods heard her prayers. Something damp spread inside of her, and Lord Tywin pulled out at last.

“Keep your legs closed. It will help the seed quicken,” he told her before rolling over, closing his eyes as if nothing had happened.

Sansa waited until his breathing had become steady before she dared to move. _He has his own bed-chamber. Why can't he go there? Why does he have to stay here with me?_ She was so close to the edge of the bed she was scared she might fall off.

Still sobbing, she got up, unsure where to go. All she knew was she had to get out of her bed-chamber. Every move sent ripples of pain through her body. Her thighs felt cold and sticky as blood and seed oozed out between her legs.

Old Beth caught her in the solar. It was only then that Sansa realized she was still naked. “M'lady! Sweet child, are you alright?”

Sansa nodded. “Yes... yes... I'm alright. I just... I just need to wash. Will you draw me a bath?”

The old serving woman looked distraught. “I can't... I have orders... if his lordship hears... there'll be trouble, m'lady... is better for you too if you don't...”

“ _Please!_ ”

She must have sounded so desperate and made such a sorry sight, the woman took pity on her. “I'll heat the water, m'lady.”

It felt good to soak herself in the warm bath, scrubbing her body clean. Her ladyparts still ached, but at least they no longer felt sticky with filth.

She held her head under the water, and for a moment, she felt so removed from the world it was almost like she was her old self again. _None of this is real. It's just a nightmare_. But eventually, she had to come back to the surface. _If the seed doesn't quicken, he'll try again. And again, and again, until I carry his bloody heir. And who knows, maybe that won't make him stop, either, maybe he_ likes _this._

Sansa looked at her arms, suddenly wishing she had a blade to open her veins. _It won't hurt much in the warm water_ , she thought. _I'd be gone before anyone would even notice_. She should have taken her lord husband's dagger. “I wish I was never born.”

“You mustn't say such things, m'lady!” She hadn't heard Old Beth come in. “It'll get better, m'lady, it will, you mustn't say such things!”

The woman helped her out of the bath, drying her off. She had brought her a night gown as well, slipping it over Sansa's shoulders. “Go back to bed, get some sleep, m'lady.”

“I can't go back in there! I can't, please don't make me!”

Old Beth furrowed her brows. “You have to get some sleep, child. You're his lordship's wife now. Tomorrow will be a long day. I'll get a whipping if I don't see you back to bed, m'lady!”

“Please! I'll go anywhere, just don't make me go back in there. Please, I won't be able to sleep in that bed. Can't I just stay with you?”

The woman studied Sansa, and the fear in her eyes gave way to something else. “Come with me. I'll see what I can do. But it won't be comfortable like your own bed, m'lady.”

Sansa couldn't have cared less. She gladly followed the old serving woman to an inconspicuous door right next to the privy.

The room was no bigger than a closet, and all it held was a bed and two girls cuddled up in it, sleeping.

Old Beth shook the older one's shoulder. “Elly! Make some room, girl. M'lady needs a place to sleep.”

Eleana sat up. At first, there was confusion in her eyes when she noticed her lady standing by her bed. But then she nodded and moved over, lifting the blanket. Sansa crawled into bed next to her.

“Try to get some sleep, m'lady,” Old Beth told her, caressing her face. “I'll wake you so you'll be back in your bed before the sun rises. If his lordship comes asking for you, I'll tell him you're in the privy, send him back to bed, you can count on me.”

 _I won't sleep_ , Sansa thought. _But at least I'll have a few hours of peace_.

Eleana wrapped an arm around her. “Shh, m'lady! It's alright. Sleep now. Everything will be better tomorrow.”

 _I'll still be married tomorrow_ , Sansa thought as she rested her head on the other girl's chest. But for just a brief moment, she felt safe for the first time in months.


End file.
